


Leading the Blind

by MaverickWerewolf



Series: May Fanfic Discord Challenge [1]
Category: A Shielding Thing, Original Work, Wulfgard
Genre: Blindness, F/M, Smut, Trust, Werewolf, there are probably more tags but I can't think of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18831952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaverickWerewolf/pseuds/MaverickWerewolf
Summary: When Tom ends up temporarily blinded, he promptly freaks out, because being blind sucks and he hates it. Luckily for him, Sinvik is around to help with that. Because who better to lead him than his Vik?





	Leading the Blind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tafferling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tafferling/gifts).



> Written for the prompt "Sightless."
> 
> Sinvik Shielding belongs 100% to Taff, and she comes from her own setting, as well.

Tom was fine with a lot of things. He’d gotten beaten up a lot, sure. He had more than his fair share of scars – ones on his skin, and maybe even more in his head (not to mention _on_ his head). Did he let them show? Nah, not _usually_. Well, except the skin ones. He showed those all the time.

And hey, he had plenty of other problems, too. He could go on and on. Other people could probably list even more. Being a mouthy bastard and all that.

He didn’t let any of that bother him very much.

But this?

This fricking _bothered_ him. A _lot._

One second, they’d been fighting this giant snake, and he’d gotten what he _thought_ was a killing blow, and then it’d turned and spat at him. And hit him, too. Right in the face.

In the fricking _face._

Tom yelled and went down like ton of bricks, his eyes on fire. Dropping his swords, he reached for his face, hissing and swearing in at least three languages as he nearly clawed out his own eyes trying to get the venom out of them. It made his fingers burn, too, but his eyes— his _eyes_ —

They were going to catch on _fire_ and fall out of his freaking head.

Something else thudded nearby. Big, heavy. Probably the giant serpent he thought he’d killed already. He wouldn’t know – he couldn’t _see_.

Blinking, eyes still burning, he tried to focus. Everything was fuzzy, distant, and getting steadily darker. Until, within a second or even less, it was gone.

Everything. Gone. He couldn’t see _shit._ Just – black.

For a moment, he froze, laying there on the floor. Then his chest started heaving, his heart raced so hard it wanted to break through his bones, he felt sick, and he turned over onto his side to get ready to heave every single thing in his stomach out right there in the freaking floor.

He was _blind._

Footsteps. Skidding, boots against stone – getting closer, right on top of him now, before they stopped. A sharp scent of spice, a hint of metal, some other scent of a plant he didn’t recognize… He knew that scent.

“Vik?”

Hands on him now. Nimble fingers, checking him for wounds, running over his bare skin – because it wasn’t like he ever much wore a shirt anymore – and she smelled great, she always did, but he couldn’t _see her anymore_.

Tom whimpered, clawed at the ground, found Vik’s arm and clutched it so tightly she hissed and batted at his hand. He didn’t let go.

“Tom – calm down, you’re fine—”

“Vik _I can_ _’t fricking see_.”

That made her pause, but he got a feeling it wasn’t because she was surprised. Tom swallowed and tried blinking again. Nothing happened.

So he blurted, “Vik – Vik Vik Vik please tell me I’ve still _got_ my _eyes_ …”

She hesitated. Just half a second, but that was enough. _Oh shit._

“No— yes, Tom, you still have your eyes,” she said quickly.

Vik didn’t get scared much. About as often as he did, which was basically never. Right now, though, _he_ was scared. She was getting too much of that or something, or else she was just really, really worried, because he could smell it – smell _something._

“Stand up,” she said, rising to her feet and taking his arm, giving it a tug. That’s all he really had right now: silence hanging heavy in his ears, Vik’s scent, and Vik tugging on his arm.

Tom slowly stood too, wobbling on his feet a second because he realized he didn’t really know where the hell to put them on the uneven stone of the slick cavern floor. He almost ended up slipping and falling flat on his face, and probably taking Vik with him, but he managed to catch himself pawing one arm around at the air until he found a wall and put his fingers against it like he thought he had claws.

Vik still had his other arm and held on tight. Tight enough to tell him that worry he smelled was way too real.

“You’re scared, Vik,” he said, his voice coming out a lot lower and shakier than he’d intended.

“Am not,” she said (which was a bad lie, and she wasn’t absolutely terrible at lying like him – not that he ever did that). One of her hands left his wrist, turning to a gentle touch on his stomach when he tried to step forward, telling him to stop. “Not there – here.”

Her hand on his arm tugged again, gentler this time, pulling him to the right. Tom shuffled that way, feeling like an idiot and wanting to scream his lungs out so badly he really wasn’t sure how he’d managed to stop himself right now.

Everything was black. Nothing. Just darkness. Shadow. Useless and empty.

Tom’s hand left the wall as he trudged along after her, swallowing hard and trying not to whimper like some lost puppy. He reached up for his face again. Vik stopped – her warmth got closer again, found his wrist. Her scent filling the air around him, driving away the dampness of the cave.

Okay, so he’d been lifting his hand toward his face. Vik was probably scared he’d been about to claw his stupid useless eyes out of his head.

Guilty as charged.

“Vik…”

“Tom,” she retorted, “there is absolutely _no_ reason to think you won’t heal. Think about it.”

He kept trudging. One foot in front of the other. Vik tugging on his arm…

“It wasn’t silver.”

Okay, true.

“You’ve healed from much worse.”

Also true…

It went on like that. Or, well, she did. Telling him things to make him feel better, make him focus and not think about the fact that he couldn’t see. They went back out of the cave. The slick stone under his boots turned to hard-packed dirt and underbrush. Rustling, scraping. Dead leaves, briars… pushing by branches, pine needles scratching at his bare arms. He’d ducked under them before, now he—

_Ugh._

Couldn’t see to do that anymore. Obviously.

“Vik _I hate this._ ”

“I know,” came her voice, up head of him, still leading him along by his arm. Her smell mingled with all the pine, the dirt, the smell of rotting leaves and her voice – hard. Stressed. Tom could smell that, too.

He swallowed and was about to speak again when he got a pine branch full in the face and good as ate it. _Tangy._ Why did he have to think like this?

“Duck, Tom.”

“Ha ha…”

She huffed. “I mean _duck_ because you’re too damn tall.”

 _Oh._ Right.

Tom hunkered a little lower and kept following along after her, after that drag on his arm and the familiar hand that did it. He took a deep breath.

“I, ah… figured you knew,” he said. “I’m screaming it, right?”

“Loudly.”

She stopped, so Tom stopped, too. He smelled old firewood, leftover from before. They were in the camp. Tom stood there like a big freaking idiot, eyes still burning like something wanted to eat right through his head. When he tried to take a step forward, Vik clicked her tongue at him and then her hands were on him again. On his waist this time, pushing him back – trying to – directing him again.

“Stay there,” she said. “Sit.”

An immediate _You know I_ _’m not trainable, right?_ came to mind, but it never left his throat, because all he did was mentally start swearing again and drop flat on his ass on the ground.

He couldn’t see her. He wanted to _see_ her, for Athena’s sake. He wanted to see _anything,_ but gods he just wanted to see _her_ right now and why was that too much to ask?

After a second of beating back the panic gnawing at the base of his skull, Tom managed a very halfhearted, “Do I get a treat?”

“Open up,” Vik said, and a second later, she stuffed a piece of tough, well-salted jerky in his mouth.

 _Hey, sweet._ Cheeky little minx. Really he ought to just eat _her_ instead (don’t look at him like that).

She went on, “I’m going to…”

Tom gave the meat a cursory chew before he swallowed the whole thing and tilted his head in the direction of Vik’s voice just before she instantly stopped talking. She sighed, maybe just a touch amused, and something behind her rustled just before she shoved a little satchel in one of his hands.

“Eat, then, and hold still.”

That was always a bad order. Tom wanted to look at her – he’d never _stopped_ wanting that – but instead he stuck one hand in that satchel of jerky and fished for more.

Vik got up. Her warmth near him went away, leaving behind just a hopeful tinge of her scent, and Tom went tense in an instant. Sniffed, lifted his head (not really sure _why_ he did that, wasn’t like he could actually look), and listened to her move away. Swish of cloth, creak of leather.

Then the slosh of liquid. Tom furrowed his brow, only for a cold, damp cloth to touch him right near his eye, so icy against his skin it made him flinch back and grunt.

“Don’t be a baby,” she said. “It’s not that cold.”

“What’re you _doing?_ _”_

“Cleaning. This’ll help you heal faster.”

Tom huffed, tilted his head away reflexively from the nagging touch that made his eyes start burning again, but Vik got her fingers under his jaw and pushed his head toward her again, patting and rubbing with the stupid cloth.

All of it served as a really sharp reminder that he couldn’t see. How delicate she tried to be around his eyes, the fact that he’d blink reflexively and nothing really happened. Not that he noticed, anyway.

Focus on something else, right? Sounds were good. Sure. He tried to just… listen.

There was so much to hear when he _did_ just stop and listen. Far in the distance, animals walking over leaves. Crunching on things to eat. He heard so much – more than anybody ever should.

Owls hooting in the trees, things scuttling in the underbrush. Crickets chirping. Distant tree frogs peeping. Steady nighttime rhythms, easy to ignore if they were taken for granted.

Tom had never really taken this stuff for granted, but now it seemed to mean even more – it seemed creepier somehow, too, stuck here immersed in endless darkness, with only those sounds, the smells, and the cold night air on his skin for company.

Well, all that and the little Vik that was finishing up with one eye now.

This all still really sucked. It was crazy. Of all the things that could happen, right? Losing one of his _senses_. And he didn’t have much sense to spare in the first place. Ha… Not funny. Not even a little bit.

It really kind of pissed him off.

Tom took a deep breath and tried to keep cool. How could anyone stand this? Seriously. All his other senses were going crazy and he couldn’t see and he _loved_ seeing and he really wanted to scream again.

His muscles bunched without his permission. His heart kicked up faster – too fast. It was night. He couldn’t do this kind of shit. He’d turn, and he _really_ didn’t need that right now. Vik didn’t, either.

“Tom?” she prompted, and he knew that _she_ knew perfectly well what was going on right now. He wasn’t sure that made him feel better or worse for it.

He grunted quietly. Talking would be great, if he knew what the hell to say, but he didn’t. Not that Vik ever really needed words, as much as he loved those things. She didn’t say anything else, either; she just got up and moved to his other side, cleaning his left eye next.

So close now, her scent was intoxicating. His hands laying there, useless and dumb after he’d finished eating every scrap of jerky, found something to do.

Without a word, he reached up and found her nearest arm, running his fingers up along it to her shoulder. Sliding past her throat, then heading south, getting around her waist and tugging her closer. In front of him, right into his lap.

She didn’t try to pull away, following his prompting. Tom could almost see her – _almost_ , which was the part that hurt – giving him that _Vik_ look, the one only she’d ever managed to pull on him (well, and Caiden, kind of, but that was for completely entirely different reasons, don’t even go there).

Anyway – part amused, part _I know what you_ _’re doing, moron,_ part _I_ _’m going with it anyway_. Because she liked it. Obviously.

His other hand found her face. Okay, a little awkward at first, because that was her nose that he’d just bumped with his thumb. That got a snort out of her, anyway, but he didn’t let that stop him from brushing his fingers down her cheek.

Funny how nice it was just to touch her and know she really was still there. That he wasn’t just conjuring up things to make himself feel better, and she really _was_ here, and he really could run his hands over her skin and lean forward to pull in a deep breath of her very real, very present scent. He let it fill his lungs and leaned his head farther forward, until his nose found her – forehead. Whoops.

He’d get it right, okay?

Nuzzling his way just a little farther down until he found her cheek, he found some all-too-familiar confidence with his hands. Found her arms again, her shoulders, slid his hands behind her back and started unfastening the latches of the leather she wore.

She made a little sound then like she was going to say something, but Tom decided at the same instant that was the perfect time to kiss her. If there was one thing he didn’t have trouble finding now, it was her lips.

His hands weren’t having much trouble, either. Got her leather off, then her shirt…

“I thought you were supposed to be blind,” Vik almost whispered, in more than enough of that sultry-Vik voice that he adored yeah there was really no coming back from this now.

Tom just snorted and grinned a little halfway into another kiss, this one turning out a tad lopsided.

“Please, Vik,” he scoffed through a low rumble in his chest. “I still know my way around my favorite places.”

She did too, apparently. Her hands were on his belt next, unbuckling it and sliding it off to toss it somewhere over her shoulder. That got him to suck in another breath – one that told him things about her that were already apparent on his side of the show, with his trousers this tight – and rasp another growl up his throat.

Getting his arms around her again, hands running up her bare back, up along those markings that made her shudder under his touch, Tom pulled her in close. _Closer_.

Except there were still these stupid things called pants in the way, messing up the works. Tom didn’t have much trouble with his – he’d barely managed to think about it again before Vik had his trousers undone and yeah okay she was amazing with her hands, alright?

But _she_ still had pants on and that was starting to upset him more by the second. Here she was, sitting here, and he couldn’t do much but tug on the waist of her trousers like somebody who desperately wanted to be let in. Which… Nevermind. Alright, that was bad.

Tom might’ve been blind, but he didn’t have to see to know the look on Vik’s face when she had to go and stand up to get those pants off, and she was _right in front of his nose_ and there went even the smallest amount of self-control he’d ever claimed to have in his life.

Because he went right ahead and, once he heard her get one leg out of those pants, put his hands on her hips and brushed his lips over her. Huffed a warm breath out that made her shudder, a hand on his head now, when he figured her legs tried to give out.

That lasted for a kiss and an extra careful little exploration with his tongue before he got a fistful of the one leg of her trousers left and pulled off the whole deal, pants and all, before giving her legs the relief and pulling her back down into his lap.

His very _hard_ lap, to put it one way. So clever. But he was still playing with his willpower here, trying to ignore the racing heart and the heaving chest and everything in him insisting to please, please go on with this.

Then Vik’s lips were at his ear. “Blind and still insatiable,” she murmured.

Tom really did grin at that one, pressing his lips against her neck before letting his sharp teeth graze her skin there with one whisper.

“Always.”

And he was a sap for thinking it, but he did: he was always, at least, for her.

He’d be the first one to admit he liked the rough stuff, and Vik and her spine could attest to that, but it was a little hard to try pinning her against something (not that that was entirely _necessary_ , by any means), which happened to be one of his favorite pastimes. And yes, he was an animal, thank you very much. Anyway, maybe it was time to be gentle.

So he tried that. Relatively. He did great for a while, too – not that he wasn’t _always_ great, which he was. Hands going up high, one running through her hair, another finding the nape of her neck and squeezing. Nuzzling her neck, at her jaw, breathing in her scent. Running teeth over her skin before he let himself find her lips again for another kiss. Tender. Drawing it out. Driving himself absolutely blindly (oh gods) crazy while he was at it, and hey, her too.

At least, if her fingers in his hair was any indication. Brushing over his shaved head to find the crest of spiking hair running up the center of his skull, fingers maybe a little too flush against his skin – digging in, or trying to. That mohawk was a little high up to be holding on to.

Then she nipped at his ear. Insistently. Got a growl out of him while her legs tried to find their way around his waist. Tom surrendered the hand in her hair to her lower back instead, not wasting anymore time finding _his_ way into _her_ , and if you asked him that was actually kind of a poetic way to put it right now.

Vik told him things about souls sometimes, things like how they sometimes got all tangled up together. Tom liked to venture a guess that was them right now, especially after he got her on her back there flat on the ground. She was feeling cheeky – she tried to get a leg around his and push him, roll him onto _his_ back instead, but a quick threat at her throat had her stop that pretty fast.

Until, you know, he thought about it. What? He was blind. And sure, he could still be on top while he was blind. Like, you know, he was right now. Or he could let her lead because he _was_ blind and was there really a better way to tell her he trusted her right now?

He sure had a weird concept of showing trust. But he went and did it, slid her throat out from between his sharp teeth and huffed, didn’t move, and – Vik probably cheated and sensed it about him, or some shit, and spoiled the whole surprise.

Because then he rolled both of them over again, so he was flat on his back. He just wished he could’ve seen the look on Vik’s face, with or without her senses. He bet it was priceless.

Except he wasn’t very good at _not_ leading, top or bottom. Because the brief second that Vik paused (in that surprise he really wished he could’ve seen), he went and got all insistent.

But hey, he was getting there. He reined himself back in, too, and let her take over. Let himself be led for once in his life, and he would’ve never trusted anybody else to do the leading. If there was someone, though, who could get him through this, to get him through anything, it’d be her.

She wasn’t just his eyes that night. She was so much more. She was everything – his whole world. And that was his favorite place to be.


End file.
